


Bad Dancing is Canon

by KestrelShrike



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Nexus - Freeform, Peebee - Freeform, implied naughtiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: No Mass Effect protagonist can dance. This is my canon and I'm taking it to the grave with me.As always, comments are very, very appreciated, and suggestions for future story ideas are welcome at my tumblr, kestrelsansjesses. I'm debating starting a longer series that goes more deeply into the political implications of what romancing an Angara would mean to a human Pathfinder, and I would love to know if this is something people want to see!





	

“Absolutely not.” 

“Ryder, please. It’ll be fun. Please. It’s a bonding exercise between you and me. Keep me from running.” 

“Peebee, that’s shit. You’re not going to run now. What part of ‘small bar on the Nexus that we’ve been to dozens of times before’ screams fun to you?” Ryder went from running her hands through her hair to throwing them upward, wanting to turn and stalk out of the room if it hadn’t been her own quarters and if Peebee hadn’t managed to corner her. 

“Dresses, Ryder. I bought us dresses.” Dangling from a hangar was a body-tight little number, in a shade Ryder had come to think of as ‘Pathfinder blue.’ It might fit, but it wouldn’t be forgiving. 

Shaking her head, she said, “No way. Not going to happen. Never.” 

But Peebee had one more trick up her sleeve. “I’ll pay for drinks.” 

There was a long pause, a weight silence that filled Ryder’s room before finally expelling in a gust of quick, frustrated air. “Fine.” This was how she found herself standing in a packed bar, a row of shots standing before her, every color of the rainbow. 

“Are these even safe for human consumption?” 

“Pathfinder, my scans indicate that they are safe.” Thanks Sam, but I wasn’t asking you. Ryder kept that to herself though, arching a brow at Peebee instead. 

“Just one shot, Ryder. Just one.” This was how she found herself taking three shots in quick succession, until the bar was a pleasant haze of colors and the music actually sounded good. The crowd hadn’t lessened one bit, but rather than feeling claustrophobic, she was embracing it. They were buying her and Peebee more drinks, plying them into her hands, asking the Pathfinder to join them in a toast. “For Eos.” “For Kadara.” “For Meridian.” If she took only a sip for each planet, she would… Probably be blasted off her face, actually. 

Someone was shaking her arm. Well, tapping on it and then shaking it. Right. Bar. People. Something besides fruity drinks, grown with real fruit, grown on planets SHE had helped seed and establish. “Ryder, is that Jaal over there? You and him still a thing, or do I have permission to make a move?” Ah, shit. Again. 

“Hold my drink.” Instead, Peebee let it clatter down to the surface of the bar, earning them both a glare, though Ryder’s back was already turned as she wound her way through the press of bodies and flung herself with unaccustomed enthusiasm at Jaal. “Jaal! What are you doing here? I didn’t think you could drink anything here.” 

To Jaal’s credit, he managed to catch her, wrapping Ryder up in a brief hug before releasing her, a smile creasing his face and turning his eyes upward. “I did not expect to see you here either, dearest.” Shit, she was drunk, but her heart was also swooping somewhere down near her stomach, and then back up. Or maybe that was her stomach. Kind of hard to tell, at this point. 

“The bartenders here have been experimenting with a liquor for Angarans. I brought them some from Aya.” He raised a cup up under her nose. It smelled flowery, but also somewhat medicinal. It was definitely her stomach doing flips this time, but not in a way that was at all pleasant. 

“Come on. Let’s dance.” This wasn’t like her at all, but her head was in a good place right now. Tomorrow, it probably wouldn’t be, but that was tomorrow Ryder’s problem, and she was happy to ignore both that and SAM’s warnings about blood alcohol content as she dragged the Angaran towards the dance floor, a new press of bodies that undulated and waved as if they were one being, rather than many separate ones. 

Jaal stiffened up, pausing just before they could actually reach the edge of the dancers. “Ah, Ryder. I do not dance. It is a human activity.” She very much doubted that, but she continued tugging at his hand in a determined, albeit futile, way. 

“Neither do I, and half the people here aren’t even human, Jaal. Look. That couple is Turian and human. There are some Asari. Come on. Please?” She could wheedle and look adorable too. 

Maybe she just wore him down. With a sigh, he walked with her into the press, and Ryder let loose in a way that lacked any grace or concept of rhythm- a shaking of her arms and legs that could technically be called dancing, but only on that slim technicality. It didn’t seem to have any relation to the current music or beat or bass line whatsoever. Jaal joined her slowly, limbs going this way and that, taller than many in the crowd, though at least he wasn’t the tallest. He was, however, the only Angaran, and attracting attention even as he moved. 

“You really can’t dance.” Choking on her own laughter, the effort of holding it in didn’t do Ryder’s dancing any favors whatsoever. 

“Have you looked at yourself, Ryder?” The retort came swiftly, and suddenly they were both laughing so hard that they had to show themselves out the door, hanging on to each other for support and finally leaning against a wall outside the bar, the music vibrating the wall and just making them laugh that much harder, to the point where tears threatened to spill from Ryder’s eyes. 

“Well, this was an experiment.” Intoxicated Ryder had completely forgotten that she had come with Peebee, something they’d hash out over breakfast the next day, until Peebee confessed she had also forgotten and passed out on a table. 

“I know something else we’re not awful at.” Now there was a different expression on her face, a subtle narrowing of the eyes that went with arms that wound around Jaal’s neck, stretching upwards. He was so much taller than her, something she rarely noticed but was acutely aware of now. 

Perhaps Jaal was feeling his own Angaran liquor. He scooped up underneath Ryder’s legs, drawing her up in a sweeping motion that had her laughing until he silenced that with his own lips, walking out into the comparative silence of the Nexus docking area, apparently not caring who stared. Had she been less socially lubricated with shots, maybe Ryder would have protested. Instead, she kissed him back, enjoying this far, far too much to complain. 

“Mm, well, one of us is not awful at it.” In response, she punched his shoulder, but softly, still laughing. 

“Take me back to the Tempest.” Was her voice always so husky? 

“We’re already there.” Sliding open the panel that would take them to the gangplank up to the belly of the ship, they entangled themselves together again, forgetting how to walk for a time. 

"At least I can take this dress off." 

"I think I will be doing that."


End file.
